


Fight Me!

by DizzyBunnies



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, keith is a nurse and lance is a patient, soooo this is a hospital AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 21:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13372977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyBunnies/pseuds/DizzyBunnies
Summary: Re-uploaded from my tumblr:the prompt is a sick patient and a nurse! keith's the nurse, lance is the sick patient**Hospital AU**





	Fight Me!

Lance sighed for what seemed the billionth time that day. He only had another day in the hospital, and after being there for two weeks, what was one more day, really?

…

A lot. It was a lot. He was so  _bored_. Not only was he bored, but he was too tired to get up and look for something to do. He thought about taking a walk to the cafeteria downstairs for a coffee or hot chocolate or  _something_ , but the last time he left his room for just two minutes, he had collapsed. He wasn’t exactly down for that to happen again.

He sat up straight in his bed, trying to get a good look around the room, despite having been in it for the past two weeks. Even this small action triggered a coughing fit from the poor boy, causing him to double over and hug his midsection. This absolutely sucked. Why couldn’t he have a PlayStation or something in his room, at least? The T.V. was okay, but he swore there was “like, two channels”, and for whatever reason, one was in Japanese.

Shifting his weight onto his side, he accidentally knocked over a pillow. His eyes followed the fluffy item to the ground, where he had a spare blanket, too. He bent over as best as he could, coughing slightly in the process, and grabbed both the pillow and the blanket. He eyed the rest of the blankets on his bed (which were quite a bit, no thanks to him constantly complaining about how freezing the hospital was), and decided that with those, and the pillows he was leaning against, he could…aw, fuck it, he was totally gonna build a pillow and blanket fort.

“Challenge accepted,” he muttered under his breath.

* * *

 

Twenty minutes Later, and Lance had somehow created a fort out of his pillows and blankets. He had managed to drag an armchair close enough to his bed that he had the extra room to pile up his pillows and drape one of the sheets over them. On the other side of his bed, he propped up two more of his pillows and placed the blanket to their side, creating a wall.

He was out of breath and on the brink of passing out then and there, but it was totally worth it. The fort was fit for a king. Well, a king with severe asthma issues. Who cared, though?! He made a freaking  _pillow fort_! Proud of his only accomplishment in what felt like forever, Lance stumbled inside the fort, crawling quickly. He positioned himself dead in the centre and laid down. Before he could even shut his eyes, he heard footsteps.

He sat up slowly, not wanting to cough out a lung, and peeked his head through one of the crevices of his fort. 

His nurse, Keith. The dude had been his saviour for the past two weeks, and to be honest, they had been quite chatty and friendly during Lance’s hospital stay.

“Uh, Lance?” Keith questioned, raising an eyebrow. “I need to check your temp–”

“ _Fight me_.” Lance mused, ducking his head back into the blankets.

Keith sighed, rolling his eyes. He put his clipboard down and walked to the other side of the room, finding the armchair glued to the cot.

“What is this getup?” Keith asked, amused.

“Jesus, Keith, it’s a pillow fort. What else could it be?” Lance said, voice muffled from the walls of the barricade. From his spot inside the mountain of blankets, he heard Keith stifle a laugh.

“Right. Lovely. Can I take your vitals now?” Keith questioned, leaning over the bed slightly to take a look inside the setup.

“I guess.” Lance mumbled, poking his head out again.

“Thanks,” Keith said, smiling.

Lance couldn’t help but smile back.

* * *

 

Keith was bound to come back two more times. Lance knew this, because Keith’s shifts were nine hours long, and he always came at the start, in the middle, and at the end.

So, three hours later, Lance wasn’t surprised to hear the footsteps of his favourite (well, his  _only_ ) nurse walking in.

He could practically hear Keith’s eyes rolling.

“You still having fun, there?” Keith asked, folding his arms.

Lance stuck his entire upper body out of the fort this time, putting on an act of bravado.

“Fucking  _fight_ me!” He exclaimed, smirking slightly. “Or are you too–” Lance couldn’t finish his sentence, because apparently, his lungs decided that he had been exerting too much energy. Coughs ripped at his chest, causing his body to tip to the side. His fort crashed down with him, pillows and blankets falling over the side of the bed.

“Lance!” Keith exclaimed, hurrying to his bedside. He immediately put his clipboard down and helped Lance sit up properly. By then, Lance’s eyes were watering, and he was hardly getting any oxygen. “Relax, you’re okay, you’re fine,” Keith murmured, rubbing Lance’s back soothingly. He then grabbed the inhaler on the nearby nightstand and handed it to Lance, who took it with shaking hands. A moment later, the boy was able to sit up. He panted, handing the inhaler back to Keith.

“Thanks,” Lance whispered, hardly able to talk.

“Yeah,” Keith replied. “Are you alright?” He asked, worried. Lance simply nodded. The nurse let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. For some reason, he felt really attached to Lance, and he especially did not want him to be pained. 

After quickly checking all of Lance’s vitals, they said their goodbyes, Keith telling him he’d be back by the end of his shift.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Keith said in the doorway, turning around to address Lance before leaving. Lance perked up, eyeing him suspiciously. “I’m not gonna fight you; you’d totally win.” He said, smiling.

* * *

 

Lance stared at the clock on the wall above the door. He had long ago cleaned up the remnants of his fort (admittedly, sadly), and managed to take a short nap. It was nearly nine o’clock; Keith was sure to be finishing soon. So where was he? Lance didn’t want to go to bed without saying goodbye–he wasn’t sure he’d see him the following day, considering he’d be leaving early in the morning.

Just as he thought he’d never see the  ~~handsome~~  nurse again, Keith came shuffling in, yawning. He had his clipboard in one hand, as usual, his stethoscope around his neck, as usual, and–a coffee? Last Lance checked, he had never seen Keith with a coffee.

“Hey,” Keith greeted. 

“Hi,” Lance said, confused.

Keith stood at Lance’s bedside, and neither said anything for a moment. They both knew it was the last time Lance would see him at the hospital.

“I’m not checking your vitals tonight.” Keith said. “My co-worker Shiro is, if that’s alright?” He informed, voice monotone.

“I mean I guess I have no choice, right?” Lance asked sadly. 

“Sorry,” Keith replied. 

“S’okay. So why are you here?” Lance asked, voice small.

Immediately, the nurse’s face flushed, cheeks burning a bright red. He slowly extended his arm out, shoving the coffee in Lance’s general direction. Lance pointed to himself, as if to ask, “ _for me?”_ , to which Keith nodded eagerly. The patient carefully grabbed hold of the coffee, surprised at how hot it still was. It felt nice.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I’ll be checking you out.” Keith called, running out of the room, face still ablaze.

Confused, and still a bit sad, Lance put the coffee in his lap, prying it open with his other hand. He went to take a sip, but a white marking on the bottom of the cup caught his eye.

_“fight me?_

_871-882-7346″_

Lance smirked, realising Keith probably had two meanings behind the term “checking you out”.


End file.
